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By Brenda Cárdenas
This body always compost--
hair a plot of thin green stems
snowing a shroud of petals,
By Lisa L. Moore
Word got out about the bad bill.
College students packed up their bikinis,
went back to Austin to tell those men why
By Amaranth Borsuk
Few things the hand wished language could
do, given up on dialect's downward spiral:
words so readily betray things they're meant
By Rachel M. Simon
the name altered from parent's choosing
the threshold of a home
white gloves on the windowsill
By Zein El-Amine
Sit in their circle.
Don't let your eyes linger
on any object in the room.
By Sheila Black
The brace was metal, and it fastened around the ankles.
Outside in the street there was the beggar with elephantiasis; there was
the leper, the neighbor with eyes milky blind,
By Purvi Shah
The mehndi is leaving my hands,
brown swirls dissolving into brown skin.
Somewhere you are traveling
By Nahshon Cook
Then he explained
how the Buddha
to reflect on the body
By Vanessa Huang
May you rest
By Joseph O. Legaspi
slides down into my body, soft
lambs wool, what everybody
in school is wearing, and for me